Six Feet Ain't So Far Down
by authoressnebula
Summary: All he had to do was step out, and let his body fall. Six plus feet of wide spread sacrifice to the waters, and this would all be over. Early season 3 spoilers. Language, attempted suicide, terrified!Dean. NOT A DEATH FIC. Title and lyrics from Creed.


_Please come now I think I'm falling_

_I'm holding on to all I think is safe_

_It seems I found the road to nowhere_

_And I'm trying to escape_

* * *

He stood and watched the ocean swirl beneath him. Dark and violent, roaring against the wind that rustled his clothes and helped him step that much closer. He felt lightheaded, and his vision felt as if he were watching behind a smudged lens. The colors he could see were dulled and lifeless.

The rail wasn't big, but it was wide enough to hold his feet. It wouldn't hold anything, in a minute.

He'd tried so hard to not believe it, but he couldn't now. Not after everything that had happened. He couldn't fight it anymore. He'd lose the battle.

That didn't mean he'd let it win.

It was a neutral solution. Without him, there wouldn't be a war. Without him, there would be no bloodshed over who took the throne. There'd be no demon savior in a boy who should've been human. It was just this, and nothing more.

There was one chance to save the world, to save the brother who possibly wasn't even his brother. To make things right. To avenge the death of two women who hadn't deserved to die in a ring of fire.

Fire is quenched by water. He knew this. The ocean below him would forever extinguish the growing fire of war that was all centered around him.

All he had to do was step out, and let his body fall. Six plus feet of wide spread sacrifice to the waters, and this would all be over.

The only thing he could possibly regret was not telling Dean about why he was doing what he was doing.

* * *

_She found him before he found her. He figured she would. Despite the innocent girl she'd wrapped up into, he couldn't help but be grateful that it wasn't him being forced to hold her._

_Grateful that it hadn't been Dean._

"_Sam the Demon Savior. It's got a ring to it, I'll give you that." She glanced over at the rails to the right, resting above the rushing ocean far down below. "Wonder if you can walk on water," she mused._

"_I'm no one's savior, let alone a demon savior," he answered angrily. He really wasn't; couldn't save anyone. Couldn't save himself or save Dean._

"_Heard about Dean," she said nonchalantly. Her hair was short and dark, almost as dark as her eyes. "Almost made me wanna stay in Hell, just to wait for him to pass by. Or, you know, grab him and play with him for eternity."_

"_You're wasting your breath," Sam told her, before she said something that definitely wasn't wasted._

"_I know who holds Dean's contract."_

_Her smile was sharp and cruel, and she knew she had him. He didn't bother to ask who; it wouldn't make a difference. She'd tell him if she felt like it._

_She stepped casually around him, tiny little feet in tiny little heels. "He's not letting go, either. Just thought I'd throw that one out. Not while you're still a threat to him."_

"_I don't want the throne or whatever the hell's up for grabs," Sam told her. He wanted nothing to do with it._

_She 'tsked' at him. "Tough. It's your birthright," she said. "One day, Sammy Winchester, you're gonna break this world like an egg, all messy and cracked in your hands."_

_The thought made his stomach twist and churn, and he had to swallow bile back. "I won't."_

"_Won't be able to help it," she said. "Of course, then you'd be able to control Dean's contract. There's perks to the job, you know." She peered up at him under her heavily shadowed eyes, smiling widely. "Bet Dean wouldn't mind playing second fiddle to his brother ruling Hell and Earth."_

_Sam closed his eyes tightly, trying to block out the image. The disappointment on Dean's face if he did it. The fury. The fear._

_He wouldn't do that to Dean. Ever._

"_Only way to get him out of the contract, unless you wanna die and make it null and void," she said, before stepping back. "I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to break the deal, though. Considering he's not really your brother."_

_Sam's head whipped up. "Thought I didn't know?" she asked coyly. "You were brothers, once. But after what happened to you, that night in the crib? You're not his brother anymore. Not enough blood in you to be related to him. You and I are closer related now."_

_He reeled backwards, eyes wide, and she laughed. "Wonder what'll happen when Dean finds out," she said. "I should tell him. Tell him he sold his soul for a demon child."_

"_No," Sam choked. "I-I'm not."_

"_Sure about that?" she asked, taking his arm and turning him around. He found himself looking into the glass of a shop closed for the night, and felt his heart stop when his eyes were tinged in black._

_When he turned back, Meg was gone._

* * *

_I'm looking down now that it's over_

_Reflecting on all of my mistakes_

* * *

"Sam?"

His heart lurched in his chest, but he didn't turn around. He'd been afraid Dean would find him. "What the hell are you doing?" Dean asked.

The wind blew, and Sam closed his eyes. Would he sail at all on the breeze? Would it move him as he fell?

"Sam?"

"'One great leap for mankind'," he quoted softly. "That's all it would be. A small step for me, a greater leap for the world."

"Sam, come down," Dean ordered, but his voice shook. "I don't even know how you got up there in the first place."

The rail was almost seven feet tall itself, designed to keep people out of the waters. Not the determined ones, though. Not those who knew how to climb the unclimbable, even when the world felt hazy around them.

"I don't really know myself," Sam said, before he began to chuckle. "Maybe I flew. The power to fly finally in my grasp, and I'll die by falling. There's an irony, don't you think?"

"Nobody's dying, especially not you. Now just...just come down already, okay?"

Sam shook his head, somber once more. "No."

There was a pause from behind him, before Dean exploded, "What good do you think you're going to do up there?!"

Sam turned back at last, his brother's face red with rage and fear. "I'm saving the world," he whispered, the wind whipping his hair around his face. "And I'm saving you."

* * *

_The part that killed him, even as he packed up his things and locked the door behind him, was that it was true. It'd been a pressure on his shoulders, a burden that was secret and dangerous, for months now. He'd longed to tell Dean his fears, but he couldn't. Not now._

_He'd have to, though. Dean would want some sort of explanation._

_He watched as Dean pulled up to the motel with the car. As soon as it was parked Sam dialed._

_One ring before he answered. "Yeah?"_

_Sam cleared his throat. "Hey. Uh, I just wanted to talk to you."_

"_Well, good timing, I guess," Dean said, pulling out the key to the room. "Just got back. I couldn't find anything on where Meg's hiding at. Nobody's seen her, besides the friendly note she sent us." The key was in the lock, and Dean opened the door. "So if you want to talk, we can just do this in pers-"_

_Dean halted in the doorway, both in words and movement. "Sam?" The voice was no longer light and carefree. Instant confusion and a touch of worry now._

_Sam swallowed. "I can't stay, Dean. I should've told you before."_

_Dean glanced around outside, scanning the area. He wouldn't see Sam, though._

_After tonight, he wouldn't see Sam ever again._

"_Told me what? What's going on, Sam?"_

"_I-" And he couldn't do it. He couldn't tell Dean that he wasn't human, hadn't been human for so long. That the demon blood had affected him more than that. He hadn't thought it had, but after what Meg had told him earlier, shown him earlier-_

"_Sammy, talk to me."_

"_I'm wrong," he whispered, and he sounded tired, even to himself. He felt tired, his eyelids heavy and the world gray around him. Dean was looking around frantically now. "I've been wrong since it all started. I don't even know if we're brothers."_

"_If we're...? Sam, what the hell-"_

"_I'm not gonna let you get hurt because of it," Sam promised. "I wouldn't do that to you, Dean. You'll be safe, safer without me."_

_Dean ran out to the middle of the parking lot, eyes wide. "Sammy, you're scaring me here," Dean admitted, voice trembling. "Where are you?"_

_He'd wondered, for awhile. What the blood had done to him. It had shattered their utopia, their happy home of four, and made it a mangled family of three._

_Of two, really. Sam hadn't been a part of it after that night. Didn't belong in it. He wondered if his dad had known what he was._

"_Sammy?"_

"_I'm sorry, Dean," Sam said quietly. "For all of it. For everything you've been put through. I'll make it right." He slid his fingers to close the phone and end the call, but something made him speak one last time._

"_I love you."_

_The phone was shut, but he still heard Dean scream his name in fear._

* * *

_I yelled back when I heard thunder_

_But I'm down to one last breath_

_And with it let me say_

_Let me say_

* * *

"Save me?" Dean asked, the rage dropping fast into terror. "Sam, what do you...you're not gonna save me by taking the swan dive, all right?"

"You don't know what I am," Sam said softly. "Something wrong. Something that shouldn't be here."

"Bullshit," Dean said, but the anger wasn't behind it. Just the fear. "You're not wrong. Yeah, you've got a magic touch and visions from hell but you're not _wrong_, Sam. You've never been wrong."

Sam shook his head and looked back down. He should've told Dean sooner. Maybe if he told him now, he'd let him go.

"I'm probably more demon than human, Dean," Sam finally said. "That night, all those years ago? I was fed demon blood. It's true," he added when Dean's eyes went round with horror. "He let me see it for myself, what he did that night."

Dean swallowed long and hard. "How long since you saw this?" he rasped. "Sam, how long?"

"Since the night I died," he replied, closing his eyes. He felt lifeless, as if he'd already fallen. The world was dimmer around him, like someone had turned down the lights, but with his eyes closed, it was a refreshing solid black.

When he reopened them, Dean was glaring up at him through what looked suspiciously like tears. "Let me go," he said quietly. "Dean, let me go."

"No chance in hell of that, Sam," he said, his voice strangled. "Get your ass down here, _now_."

Sam looked back towards the ocean. "Sammy, _please_," Dean choked out, and Sam slowly turned back to him. There was honest to god terror on his face. His brother, who was never afraid, never cried, never begged. The strong one when Sam fell apart.

Tears coursed down his face, and his lower lip trembled as he stepped forward, arms reaching up. "Just...just please come back down, Sammy," he pleaded. "You're not gonna help me by jumping. You're just gonna make me load up my gun one last time."

A part of him had known that would be Dean's course of action, and he frowned slightly at his own response. Even the thought of Dean blowing his brains out, a thought that normally would make his chest tighten and his eyes sting, was felt with detachment.

Was he already so gone? Had the demon blood taken over the rest of him already?

"You're the only person who can scare the living shit out of me, you know that?" Dean whispered, gulping. "Only person who can really make me cry. Please come down. _Please_."

One step. That was all it would take. He felt as if he were torn into two, one side pulling him towards the ocean. The other side was pulling him towards Dean.

He turned and put his foot out into the air, Dean's sharp gasp heard above the ocean.

* * *

_Hold me now_

_I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking_

_Maybe six feet_

_Ain't so far down_

* * *

His arms went out in front of him, his body bent to fall. One foot stayed on the rail, the lone thing that kept him from tumbling over.

His hands reached Dean's, and his momentum carried him down into his brother's embrace even as Dean tugged. His arms went around Dean's neck as he fell the rest of the way forward, sending Dean back and down onto the pavement. Dean's arms were wrapped tight around him, tighter than they'd ever been before, and he didn't seem to care when he wound up with a lap full of a too big little brother.

Suddenly colors returned, he could breathe and see again, and he gasped at the change. With it came the rush of terror and fear at what he'd almost done, what he'd even _thought_ of. "Oh god, Dean," he whispered, before a sob tore out of him.

"I've got you, Sammy," Dean whispered, and his brother's body was heaving just as hard as his was. Dean shuddered in a gasp of air, clutching at Sam. "God, I thought...I _thought_-"

Sam buried his face in his brother's neck and cried even as Dean dug his fingers into Sam's ribs. Then he pulled back, cradling Sam's face in his hands. Dean's eyes were red, red and full of tears that had to burn, but they fell and gathered again anyways. "I don't care," he whispered. "I don't care if you've got more demon blood than human in you. I don't think it's true for a goddamn minute, and I _know_ that even if it were, you'd still be my brother. You understand me? That's not gonna change."

Sam gasped for air, but he kept his gaze locked on Dean. Even with his own vision blurred with tears, everything was still crisp and clear and real again, and he wondered why it had dulled. Did impending death do that to you?

"And you don't ever, _ever_ do this again," Dean said harshly, but his voice shook. "I don't ever want you to even think that this is acceptable, because it's not. You hear me?"

Sam nodded, closing his eyes and bowing his head. He couldn't believe what had possessed him to do it in the first place. He'd have just condemned Dean to an earlier grave, and the world would've gone to Hell, anyways, without him standing there in the way of whomever was challenging him.

Dean pulled him back in, wrapping himself around Sam. His fingers clutched and dug almost to the point of pain in Sam's hair, his chin digging into the top of Sam's head, but Sam didn't care. He wasn't letting go.

"I thought I had a chance."

Sam was grabbed around his shoulders, hauled back even as Dean twisted to move in front of him, other arm pulling the Colt from his jacket. "Dean," Sam whimpered, fingers wrapping in Dean's shirt. Meg glared at them both, and Dean glared back through his tears.

"Get the _fuck_ away from him, you psychotic bitch," Dean snarled.

"You get the hell away from him," Meg snapped. "I thought if I could convince him to jump, then I could step in place. It wasn't hard to do; your charms are worthless against mind magic. Show him a little darkness, dim the senses...I _had_ him."

Magic. Sam closed his eyes and focused on breathing. She'd been the one behind his dead vision and even deader look on life. His black eyes ever so briefly seen in the window. He shuddered, and felt Dean's arm wrap even tighter around him.

"Right, 'cause he's that much of a threat," Dean growled. The gun didn't waver. "So what, you don't even have the guts to kill him yourself-"

"The birthright doesn't work that way!" she spat. "It was supposed to have been _my_ birthright! I was the first born demon! I was the one who was supposed to lead the armies! He gave it to a second born _human_ instead." Meg's eyes went black, and her lips pulled into a sneer. "You have to renounce the birthright or kill yourself, where it's implied that you give it up. Then it would've fallen to me. A demon who could've handled the army. You're human; you don't stand a chance!"

"He's not demon, then?" Dean asked sarcastically. "Gee, what a surprise."

"Not enough demon blood to turn him," she said, curling her fists. Black sparks and smoke appeared around her fingers. "Just enough to wake him up to powers he doesn't deserve. He deserves to be dead; don't you think Dean? Then you wouldn't be going to Hell for the brat who left you for college, who'd apparently rather die than be with-"

The bullet sank straight through her forehead, and Sam jerked at the sound. Electric sparks of all colors ran down the body, before it fell to the ground, demon and girl dead.

Dean let his arm fall, the Colt making a small noise as it met the pavement. A moment later, Sam said quietly, "I didn't mean to jump."

"I know," Dean answered just as softly. "Should've known something was wrong from the look on your face when I found you. You'd have been weepy emo-girl, not a calm freak of a statue."

It took a second for Sam to see the small smile on his brother's face. Relief flooded through his system as he shoved at him weakly. "What if I'd stepped off?" he couldn't help but ask.

Dean stilled, his smile fading, before he said quietly, "I'd have lunged for you. And if I couldn't have grabbed you, I'd have followed you down."

Sam closed his eyes and let his forehead sink onto his brother's shoulder. He'd known it for years. It was what had him holding on to life as hard as he did. It wasn't just himself he was holding on for.

The ocean's roaring was a gentle background noise as they stood together.

* * *

_Please come now I think I'm falling_

_I'm holding on to all I think is safe_


End file.
